


Introductions Should Be Made

by CelesteIsHere



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Funny, M/M, dorian/inq is only mentioned, inq is a human but not a trevelyan, story telling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25592866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteIsHere/pseuds/CelesteIsHere
Summary: Varric introduces Inquisitor Xavier to Hawke, ft. a glowing, angry elf.
Relationships: Fenris/Male Hawke, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 62





	Introductions Should Be Made

**Author's Note:**

> this is self indulgent and also at the behest of a treasured mutual :) for funsies

The sun beats radiantly on the back of Xavier’s neck as he makes his way to Skyhold. It’s a comfortable, unusual warmth that is far too rare in the snowy Frostback Mountains for his liking. This small comfort is welcomed in open arms after the nightmare that was the Exalted Plains. All the undead, the crazed soldiers that didn’t care if he was friend or foe, and the terribly familiar sight of half-collapsed buildings wrapped in fire- it all made him shudder. 

Skyhold gets progressively closer and closer, and the desire to take a delicious, fat nap becomes overwhelming. Unfortunately, the Inquisitor’s work is never done. As soon as his party trots through the gates, there are messengers crowding around Xavier’s horse, clamoring for his attention. He inwardly groans, but flashes them a diplomatic smile. He dismounts and hands the reins to the stableboy that follows Dorian, Cassandra, and Bull to the stables.

Xavier is bombarded with reports that he’ll give to Dorian to read aloud later, some shipments that need his approval in the form of a messy signature, and some menial complaints passed on from Duke Such-and-Such about something far below his station. (Honestly, it’s ridiculous that so many of these visiting nobles think that he really gives a fuck if one of his servants gave a bit of lip. It’s like complaining to the king that you were shorted ten bits at the corner shop.) He raises his eyebrow at the messenger who shrugs and says that the Duke or Count or whoever didn’t even have a name for the servant that he felt slighted by. Of course he didn’t. 

After the crowd of people disperse, Xavier lets out a sigh of relief and roughly rubs his eyes for far too long. 

“Is it that bad?”

Xavier opens his eyes and pleasantly smiles at the man before him. “Varric! My favorite dwarven mistress.”

Varric chuckles. “Oh? You have other dwarven mistresses?”

“Yeah,” He looks around to check if she’s nearby. “Scout Harding and I get it on every time we see each other. And Cabot, the bartender- he’ll deny it, but he actually gets me flowers. Oh, and we can’t forget the guy I give the mosaic tiles to. He makes me so crazy that I can’t remember his name.”

“Wow, I thought we had something special, Xavier, but here you are, bedding every dwarf in Skyhold.”

Xavier shrugs. “I got a type. Y’all are very… robust. Strong.”

Varric tuts, shaking his head. “What will Dorian say?”

“Dorian is fully aware of my dwarven harem, and also that I’m married to Josephine. We’re a polycule, you see.”

“I hate that there’s a word for that.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Anyway, I... actually had something to inform you of.”

Xavier furrows his brows. “Oh, really? Sounds serious. Man, I was having fun.”

Varric nods, face suddenly somber. “Yeah, me too. Now, there’s someone from my past that could really help us with this Corypheus thing. He’s been here for a few days and is really antsy about staying in one place for too long, so you should talk with him soon."

Xavier regards Varric for a moment. He doesn’t like the tight lines of worry that suddenly appeared around his eyes. Varric is nervous- that’s never good. Better deal with this right away. “Aight. Take me to him. I’ve got a million things to do, but I’d rather meet him than give a briefing to the advisors.”

Varric gives him a small smile and sets off with Xavier in tow, leading him through Skyhold.

Xavier is once again put in awe by his companions. It’s not like his own life is disinteresting, but it seems incredibly dull when you put in next to Varric’s. The dwarf has known more people and been on more adventures than Xavier can even dream of. Xavier has sat and listened to dozens of his stories, and, dagger to his throat, could not begin to name the man that is putting Varric on edge. He’s lived such a busy life, and he’s only… huh, Xavier doesn’t actually know how old Varric is. 35? 40?

“You know,” Varric says halfway up a flight of steps, breaking the silence and Xavier’s train of thought. “I think you two are gonna get along marvelously. He, too, used to joke about me being his sidepiece, so you’ve at least got that in common.” 

Xavier pulls a face in mock betrayal. “I have competition? No one competes with the Inquisitor.”

Varric chuckles. “Oh, I don’t know. I think the Champion of Kirkwall can.”

His eyes widen. Of course it’s Hawke. One thing Xavier will not get used to is untouchable heroes that he still hears stories of suddenly wanting to speak to  _ him _ . He’s some severely dyslexic farmer that happened to be at the Conclave as a mercenary because money was tight at the farm. Wrong place, wrong time, and suddenly he’s got the Hero of Ferelden and her Grey Warden coming in a few weeks to discuss  _ things _ , and now the Champion of Kirkwall is on his doorstep. 

“Damn,” is all he manages. 

He follows Varric up onto the battlements. Up here, the wind is unobstructed and hits them at full force. Xavier lets out a full body shiver and squints against the wind. Far down the battlements stands a figure that he assumes is Hawke.

When their approach is known, Hawke turns to face them, giving a familiar smile to Varric and a polite one to Xavier. 

“I’m Garrett Hawke, nice to meet you.” He holds out a weathered hand.

“Xavier Conway, a pleasure,” he says with his Inquisitor voice, accepting Hawke’s hand. “Varric tells me you have information about Corypheus.”

“Yes,” Hawke begins. He tells his story of what Corypheus actually is, how they tried to kill him, where this is all leading to. Throughout it all, all Xavier can think (aside from the dawning horror of the true danger of Corypheus) is how worn-out Hawke looks. Varric has always spoken so highly of the man- his quick wit, his generosity, his ability to defuse a tense situation with a joke, or, in some cases, do the exact opposite. Hawke, in Xavier’s mind, should be this bright, jovial man, flashing him a wicked grin, an innuendo on the tip of his tongue. The man in front of him stands with his arms crossed and muscles tensed. His eyebrows are perpetually knitted together, leaving wrinkles that don’t smooth out when his expression shifts. He frowns, his eyes tired and dull and ringed with dark circles. His hair is unkempt and streaked with grey strands that seem fairly new. This Hawke is a far cry from the man that Varric evangelized. 

Xavier casts a glance at Varric, who is watching their exchange with a pinched expression and a twinge of… disappointment? 

Hawke and Xavier exchange more information and some questions, all very professional and polite. It gives Xavier a much better idea of what they’re dealing with, and where to go from there. He’s about to bid his farewell and deliver this information to his advisors, when Varric speaks up.

“Hawke, how are you finding Skyhold so far? Personally, I think it’s lacking cute dwarven serving girls, and maybe a brothel. Though, maybe that’s just me being homesick for Kirkwall.”

Hawke chuckles, though it feels a little hollow. “Did you ever go to the Blooming Rose?”

“Don’t avoid my question.”

He chuckles again. “I have no complaints. Skyhold is quite good, as far as fortresses go- not that I have much experience with fortresses. But it’s a nice area. Defensible. A bit brisk. Very brisk.” His eyes are caught on something in the distance that he then nods towards. “Are the massive holes in the walls just for decoration, or…?” He teases, eyes suddenly a bit brighter.

Xavier looks over at the portion of the battlements that still hasn’t been repaired; a swath of stone is still missing from the pathway, leading to stones occasionally tumbling down.

Xavier grins, glad for something less serious to talk about. “Yeah, usually our half-assed fix-ups come fairly quickly, but they’ve been real slow at Skyhold. Need a bridge repaired in the Exalted Plains? We can slap some wood over it and call it brand new within two weeks. Repair the defenses of the Inquisition’s headquarters? I don’t know, man…”

“They might be busy putting up all those statues and banners. Makes the place look nice, until you try to go to sleep, and you can’t because there’s four holes in the walls blowing ice-cold air in.” 

Xavier rubs the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. “My ambassador thought that because the nobles that visit are pretty superficial, we need some superficial decorations for them. If it was plain, they’d complain.”

Varric shakes his head, any trace of uneasiness gone. “You are a dirty-dog liar, your Inquisitorialness. Was it not you that ordered that the statues and heraldry be changed?”

“Okay,” he says, holding up his hands as Hawke raises his eyebrows in amusement. “First of all, they were ugly as hell, second, Josephine put a little thing on my desk and was like ‘circle the things you want changed’, so I circled the things I wanted changed and handed it back. It wasn’t some direct order to the laborers.”

“And the second time?”

“The stuff they put in was even uglier, so I changed it to something else.”

“I’ve been here,” Hawke says around a laugh, “for nearly a week waiting for you, and Varric says that you’re gone most of the time, anyway. Does it really matter what banners are hanging?”

Xavier acts scandalized. “Wha- of-of course it matters, Serah Hawke, this is my home-”

“That-” Varric points to one of the towers of Skyhold across the courtyard, “is his bedroom. All of it.”

“That- that is not true; only the top half is my bedroom, the bottom is the war room.”

“War room!” Hawke exclaims. 

“Yeah, it’s where we discuss battle strategy-”

Hawke laughs, which makes Varric follow suit. “You know where I discussed  _ my _ battle strategy? To and from picking everyone up from their houses and in between telling them not to fight with each other.”

Varric laughs something bright and bubbly. “Oh, Maker, Hawke, do you remember when we helped that poor kid Feynriel, and you decided to bring Fenris  _ and _ Anders into the fade with us?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“The walk back was  _ silent _ ,” Varric makes a slicing gesture. “Probably the only time I didn’t see those two at each other’s throats.” He turns to Xavier. “Some backstory- this kid was a dreamer, had a super strong connection to the fade.”

“Something even Tevinter magisters feared,” Hawke supplies.

“So, naturally, because everyone always asks Hawke and Co for help, we got roped into going into this kid’s nightmare to rescue him. If that failed, we’d have to make him Tranquil. Not a nice prospect, but that’s how powerful he was- that _ that  _ was the only option if all else failed. Now, I had a natural curiosity to see the fade, so I went willingly. So, who else does Hawke bring? How about his not-yet-boyfriend, the Tevinter ex-slave who hates magic, the fade, and all mages except Hawke,  _ and _ the Grey Warden apostate that’s possessed by a spirit, y’know, the guy that blew up the chantry. These two  _ hated  _ each other-”

“In my defense, we had a mage and a rogue- me and you. Realistically, Anders is the best person to bring to the fade, because you can’t get possessed if you’re already possessed. So, then we had two mages and a rogue, and I desperately needed a warrior. I only know two, and Aveline was busy with the guard, which left Fenris-”

“Right, no favoritism on your part.”

“No, Varric, you’re my favorite.”

“You make me blush, kind Ser.” Varric touches his cheek for effect, then turns back to Xavier, who is following their conversation with glee. “Well, anyway, we get into the fade, and Anders is immediately taken over by Justice, the spirit. I look over and see all the color drain out of Fenris' face, but he keeps his cool. Justice is actually a big help in the fade, pointing out demons and the like. He makes Anders a better fighter, too. We go into one room and defeat this desire demon with no problem.”

“I wouldn’t say that it was no problem. It was  _ pretty _ hard.”

“Not as hard as the next room. This was a pride demon, and it picked on Fenris. It told him some bullshit, and Fenris fell for it- not his proudest moment- and attacked us. Two mages and a dwarf with a crossbow standing against a twelve-foot-tall pride demon, two fade spirits, and a demon-influenced elf with a sword bigger than he is. Oh, he also has the ability to phase through objects, which he frequently uses to  _ tear people’s organs from their bodies.  _ I’d like you to calculate those odds, Xavier.”

“Holy shit,” Xavier laughs, eyes wide with a hand over his mouth.

“We barely made it out of that fight alive. Afterwards, Feynriel realized he had complete control over the fade, grew confident in his abilities, and went off to study in Tevinter. Happy ending for him. We all wake up to see Fenris refusing to make eye contact with any of us. We leave, and I expect Anders to go on some mage rights rant to Fenris on the way back to the Hanged Man, and instead he just has this hollowed-out look to him. Fenris spent the entire time with his head bowed like a dog that chewed up your shoes. It was pathetic. Hawke and I kept looking at each other and nearly bursting out laughing from the absurdity of the whole situation. These two arrogant bastards? Quiet? Ashamed of their actions?  _ Never. _ ”

“It’s like when someone tells you not to laugh, and then that’s all you can do.”

“Then, the  _ next  _ time we brought the two of them out, ooh boy. If looks could kill.”

They all laugh at that.

“Shit,” Xavier runs a hand through his locs. “And I thought that  _ we  _ have a rough go of it.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Xavier, we’ve had some battles. That dragon in the Hinterlands?"

Hawke waves his hand dismissively. “Pfft. I’ve fought dragons.”

Varric chuckles. “Not like this one, you haven’t.”

“Maybe I did and didn’t bring you.”

“Not bring me  _ and  _ not tell me about it? You’re so cruel to me.”

Hawke has an easy expression to him now. The weariness is still evident underneath his smile, but his eyes shine in a way they didn’t before. The bond between Hawke and Varric must run very deep, if simply telling a story and joking around can revitalize Hawke and make him seem five years younger. Are they…? No, Varric has explicitly said that he only likes women. Xavier tilts his head and studies the two of them. 

Hawke leans a little bit towards Varric, saying something with a grin and raised eyebrows. Varric cocks his head, hands on his hips. His eyes have a glint about them and flick up to meet Hawke’s. 

There’s got to be  _ something  _ there, right? Xavier isn’t being delusional, right? Varric has always worn too many earrings… and how much chest he shows? Xavier has, for the most part, only heard men- himself included- be interested in a hairy chest. Women tend to like smooth chests- not that Xavier is an expert on women’s interests. 

Actually, he’s going to stop speculating about his friend’s sexualities. He learned that lesson the hard way when he joked to Cassandra that her and Josephine would be a cute couple. Her scandalized look and the following bruise on his arm will remain in his mind for some time. In his defense, they  _ would _ be really cute. Cuter than Sera and Dagna, even.

“So,  _ Inquisitor _ ,” Hawke begins, grabbing him from his unprofessional thoughts. “Got any fun stories for me?”

Xavier looks up in amused thought, scratching the hair on his chin. “Ah, I could tell you about my first encounter with Corypheus because it makes me look really cool.” He has since dropped his Inquisitor voice, slipping into his usual dialect.

“Go on,” Hawke says with a smile.

Xavier begins to tell the story, describing the army led by Corypheus that crested the hills, how they had to figure out how to win when they were outnumbered. “I tell Cullen that Corypheus only wants me and the mark, and I’ll distract him and then cause an avalanche after everyone escapes out the back, ‘cus I’m selfless like that,”

“And terribly humble,” Varric teases.

“And sexy and intelligent and perfect. I know.” He jokes. “So, I go out to deal with Corypheus myself. I get knocked to the ground and see this guy walk towards me, and all I can think is ‘man, this motherfucker is ug- _ ly _ ’. He throws me around a little bit and then holds me up by my neck like I’m a doll. His stank-breath is all up in my face, and I really can’t hear his villain monologue  _ at all _ because I’m busy being choked- and I wish it was in the sexy way, but it actually really hurt. 

“So he throws me around a little more, and while he’s going on about,” he lowers his voice in imitation, “‘bringing about the power of ancient Tevinter’- or whatever bullshit, I realize that the signal that everyone is far enough away has been made, so I edge closer to the trebuchet. He doesn’t notice and I interrupt him- which felt amazing- and say ‘Man, shut the fuck up’, then I hit the trebuchet and run away. It causes an avalanche, as planned, and Corypheus rides away on his dragon, which is really lame compared to what I did.”

Hawke chuckles. “Which was?”

Xavier flashes a faux-proud grin. “I fell down a hole and broke half the bones in my body.  _ Then, _ I nearly froze to death when I tried to find everyone.  _ And _ , when I got laid down at the healer’s tent, I threw up all over myself and passed out.” He shuts his eyes with a smug expression. “You may say I’m a badass.”

They share a laugh. The mood has lightened significantly. Xavier realizes that Varric’s nerves were probably him worrying whether or not he and Hawke would get along. Well, Varric doesn’t have to worry; Xavier thinks he and Hawke could be good friends.

“You’re  _ very _ cool. I bet Varric’s already started writing about-”

A sudden, booming shout is sounded across the battlements, stopping Hawke dead in his tracks. It almost sounds like an animal’s roar, guttural and unabashed. It shakes Xavier to his core, and he instinctively reaches for his bow. It bellows, “ **_GARRETT!_ ** ”

Hawke’s eyes and mouth fly open in panic and he whips around. Charging towards them is a…  _ glowing _ … elf. An elf that, just like Varric described, has a sword bigger than himself strapped to his back. 

“What did you do, Hawke?” Varric mutters in confusion.

Before Xavier has any time to respond to this, Hawke opens his arms in a welcoming gesture with a worried grin plastered on his face. 

“Fenris! Baby! How are you? It’s been a while-”

Ah, it’s Fenris, the Tevinter ex-slave. Well,  _ Fenris _ continues stomping towards Hawke until he is a breath away, glaring daggers up at him. “Do not address me with a foolish pet name after you  _ abandoned  _ me and made me chase you all over Thedas-"

Varric’s mouth hangs open. “Wait,  _ that’s _ why you didn’t want to talk about him with me? You played ‘I’m going out for some milk, I’ll be right back’ with your boyfriend?”

The plot thickens, evidently, Xavier thinks, eyes wide as he tracks this encounter.

Hawke gapes like a fish before answering, “W-well, I- I left a note-”

“No, you didn’t. _ ”  _ Fenris practically growls, teeth bared. 

He waves his hands nervously between him and Fenris. “Wha- yes, I did. I remember, I put it on my nightstand-”

“ _ No, you didn’t. _ ” The markings across his skin glow brightly in anger once again. “I tore apart the house looking for a note, and found nothing. When I finally tracked you down, I expected to find you dead or worse, not  _ giggling _ with the Inquisitor and-” his eyes fall on Varric, finally acknowledging his presence, “ _ You.” _

Varric manages a nervous smile, suddenly looking like he would rather be anywhere else. “What, me? What about me-”

Fenris turns and jabs his finger at him. “You knew he was here, dwarf, and you didn’t tell me about it!"

“How was I supposed to know you were on the warpath? I thought you had a very good reason to not be here with Hawke that didn’t include ‘getting dumped’.”

Silence falls after that. Fenris stares at Varric, then slowly turns to Hawke. “Is this your way of breaking u-”

“No! Maker’s breath, no,” Hawke places his hands on Fenris’ shoulders. “Look, in my note, I said that I wanted to fix my mess, without you getting involved. I was sure Corypheus was dead, but he isn’t, and I need to stop him, whatever it takes. Even me dying. But, if I let you come with me- if you knew where I was going- I knew you'd die to protect me, and I just can't have that. You mean too much to me."

Fenris stares at him in dumbfounded silence before chuckling bitterly, a choked and ugly sound bubbling from the back of his throat. The glow from his markings finally ebbs away, dying as his posture seems to deflate. "I mean so much that you would have me worry myself to sickness and insomnia and nightmares over your well-being?" He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a shuddering breath. "Unbelievable." He shakes his head pathetically, staring at Hawke one last time before turning and walking away. 

Hawke sputters and chases after him, desperate pleas spilling from his mouth, pleas that Fenris pointedly ignores. 

Xavier and Varric watch them go until they are out of sight. They stand in awed silence for a few moments, processing that encounter.

“Yo,” Xavier eventually says. “What the  _ fuck _ was that? I don’t think I shoulda seen that.”

"Maker, he's stupid. You can’t make this shit up," Varric says. "A sovereign says that he left the note in that coat he's wearing." 

Xavier laughs, scratching his beard. "I'm… not even going to bet against that. There’s about eight stories here, isn’t there?" 

“I’ll tell you them over drinks?” 

“Yeah, alright. Lead the way,” Xavier says.


End file.
